


The Mark

by spnsamsgirl



Series: Mac, Sam & Dean [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-24
Updated: 2020-01-24
Packaged: 2021-02-27 16:14:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 20,350
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22390024
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spnsamsgirl/pseuds/spnsamsgirl
Summary: Dean has the Mark of Cain. Sam is trying to find a way to remove it. A long lost friend shows up to help.
Series: Mac, Sam & Dean [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1611589





	The Mark

CHAPTER 1  
She sits in the library of the bunker, waiting for the boys to come home. She misses her Sammy. She needs to see him. But it has been years, since before he met Jess. Will he remember her? she wonders. Will he recognize her? She’s not sure what the reaction will be. So, she waits in the dark.  
The loud moan of the outside door wakes her out of her reverie. She looks up towards the stairs, hoping it’s Sam that walks through first. She is so unsure of the reception she will get. She shivers in trepidation.   
The inner door opens with a moan. Someone slowly starts down the stairs, boots hitting each of the metal steps loudly, determinedly. She waits, anticipating, wondering. Finally, she sees him on the last curve of the stairway. It’s him. Her Sammy. Beautiful, brooding, pensive. Just as she remembers. Just as she sees him in her mind’s eye.  
He walks around the table, and slowly up the few stairs to the library. Dean has not entered, which is a good thing she thinks.  
“Hello Sam.” She speaks hardly louder than a whisper. He raises his head from the tablet he was looking at. His mouth drops, eyes widen in surprise. He dropped the tablet on the table in front of him, reached behind his back and pulled out his gun, aiming at her head.  
“Who are you? What are you doing here? How did you get in?” He threw questions at her rapidly,   
She slowly rises from the chair she was sitting on and takes a few steps, so she is out of the shadows and in the light. Before she says a word, his eyes widen in surprise.  
“Mac?” he states wonderingly. She nods her head.   
“Hi” she says quietly, looking pointedly at the gun in his hand. He looks down at it, shrugs his shoulders, and lays it gently on the table. He opens his arms so she could step into them. She barely comes to his shoulder, so she buries her face into his chest. His safe, warm chest. She is finally peaceful.  
“I wasn’t sure you would remember me. It has been a long time.” She mumbles against him. He gently pushes her away from his chest but keeps her in his arms. “How could I forget the person who first befriended me at Stanford, who made me feel welcome and not a freak. Who introduced me to the woman of my dreams” he replied softly, “God, it’s good to see you!” He pulls her close again, just for a quick moment, then lets her go. She takes a step back and looks up at him, tears in her eyes, smile on her face.   
He smiles as he looks at her, sweeping his eyes up and down her body. She shivers, a smile on her face. He reaches over and gently wipes the tears from her eyes. She looks up at his face shyly.   
“Not that I’m not happy to see you, but what are you doing here?” he asked. “And where did you go all those years ago?”  
“After I introduced you to Jess, I had to leave school. I had some personal business to take care of in London. I couldn’t come back until now. Long story and one I don’t want to get into now.” She looked down at her hands. “Even though I was gone, you and I have always been connected. I have always known what was happening with you. I am so sorry I couldn’t be with you when Jess died, but I knew you were ok. You were with Dean.”  
“I missed you after she died, but you’re right, I was ok. Dean kept me sane. Why did you come back now?” he quizzed.  
“There are things going on that made it necessary for me to come back. I’ll explain everything later. For now, can you please get me a beer?”  
“Sure”, he replied with a smile, “be right back”  
Sam turned, walked around the table, and headed down the stairs to the kitchen. Mac stepped further back into the shadows. She had heard the creak of the door opening and closing.  
Dean stepped briskly down the stairs. He threw the duffle bag on the war room table. He started to walk up the stairs into the library. “Whew, that was a nasty…” He stopped, reached behind his back, pulled his gun and aimed it at Mac. “Who are you? What are you doing here?” he demanded angrily. “Hands where I can see them”. Sam came around the corner from the kitchen to the war room. “Dean put that down” he commanded as he walked quickly to Dean. Sam put his hand on the gun and forced it down. Dean looked over at him, “Why? Who is she?” “She’s a friend.” Sam replied. “Dean meet Maxine Stratford – Mac… Dean Winchester” Sam introduced.  
Dean looked sideways at Sam, still holding his gun, finger on the trigger. “What’s she doing here?”  
“I’m not sure yet. Just calm down. And put that thing away” Sam replied, pointing at the gun in Dean’s hands.  
Dean looked at Mac, shrugged his shoulders, and reached behind his back and put the gun in the waist of his jeans. “Sorry” he mumbled.  
Mac smiled shyly. “No problem”. She pulled out a chair, sat down wearily. Sam pulled out a chair opposite the table from Mac and sat down, turning on the lamp as he did so. Dean pulled out a chair at the next table, same side as Sam, and sat.  
No one spoke for what seemed like forever. The silence was awkward, deafening. Finally, Dean slapped his hands on the table, pushed his chair back and started to rise. “I’m hungry. I’ll get food – you buy” he nodded to Sam.  
“No, sit. I’ll go.” Said Sam. He rose, walked across the library toward the stairs to the outside. “I’ll be back in a flash”, he called as he started up the stairs.  
The silence was even more deafening. Mac and Dean looked all over the room, anywhere but at each other. Dean absently rubbed his right forearm. Mac caught the motion and looked at his arm. “Does it hurt?” she asked.  
“What? This? How do you know about this?” he demanded gruffly.   
“Look, Dean,” Mac responded in an exasperated tone, “I’m not the bad guy here. I know lots of things. Like about the Mark. I know you got it from Cain to kill Abaddon. I know Metatron shoved an angel blade through your chest. I know you died and came back with black eyes. I also know Sam saved you, even though you tried to kill him. What I don’t know is how you are dealing with it now. I can’t read you like I can Sam and that frustrates me.”  
“Again, I’m not the bad guy. I would ask you to trust me, but I know you won’t. Not yet. But you need to believe all I want – All I have EVER wanted, was for Sam to be ok.”  
“Of course, he’ll be ok – he’s got me” Dean mumbled petulantly.  
“I know you look out for him, and he looks out for you. Family is everything to you both. As you have said so many times – Family don’t end in blood. I’m not blood. But believe me, whether you like it or not or whether you know it or not, I am family.”  
The upstairs door moaned as Sam opened and closed it. “I’m back” he called as he came down the stairs.  
“What’s up?” He looked from Dean to Mac and back to Dean, his brow furrowed with concern, “Everything ok?”  
“Yeah, we’re fine,” replied Dean, “let’s eat”  
“Please,” said Mac with a smile, “I’m starving!”  
The three of them sat at the table, Sam beside Mac, Dean across from them, and devoured the pizzas (Sam bought 3 large), Dean and Sam making small talk, Mac staying quiet.  
After the food was gone, Mac rose from the table and stretched, “It has been quite a day,” she yawned. “Sam, can you show me to a guestroom? I’d like to go to sleep.”  
“Sure, follow me,” Sam replied, leading her out of the library to the bedrooms.

Mac woke early. At first, she wasn’t sure where she was. She looked around the unfamiliar room, heart pounding, frightened. The memories of the previous evening came swarming back. Dean with the gun, Sam’s hug and smile, the small talk while eating. She relaxed, smiled, and pushed back the blanket and put her feet on the cold floor as she sat up. She reached over and pulled the chain on the lamp beside the bed to turn on the light. She looked around the room, remembering when Sam brought her here.   
“Here you go,” he said with a smile, “My room is just down the hall, number 23. Bathroom with showers is down there,” waving his arm the opposite direction. “Dean’s room is around the corner, number 11.”  
“Thanks,” she replied with a small smile. “Good night.” “Good night,” he replied, kissing her forehead, “see you in the morning”.  
She smiled. Her eyes were drawn to the chair by the small table behind the door. On it were four towels of varying sizes and a bathrobe. On the floor was a pair of gray slippers. She smiled again. These weren’t there when she went to sleep. Sam must have dropped them off. Wow, she thought, I really must have slept.   
She rose from the bed, walked over to the table, slid her feet into the slippers, which fit by the way, and drew the robe around her shoulders. She picked up the small towel, walked to the sink in the room, and splashed water on her face.  
She opened the door, looking up and down the hall, not sure where she was going. She smelled coffee. She followed the scent and walked down the hall and up the few steps into the kitchen.  
Sam was sitting at the table, looking at the laptop in front of him. He looked up at Mac, smiled, “Good Morning. Sleep well?”  
Mac walked over to the coffee maker, grabbed a cup and poured coffee. “Fine, thanks,” she replied. “Thanks for the towels, robe and slippers,” she said walking over to sit across the table from Sam.   
“Mornin’,” Dean said as he walked into the room. “What’s up?”  
“Nothin’,” replied Sam, “all quiet.”   
“Nothing on Cain? Vamps? Werewolves? Ghouls? Nobody? Nothing?”  
“Nope, not yet.” Sam’s cell vibrated on the table. He looked down, opened his eyes wide and smiled as he picked it up and hit the button to answer it.  
“Hey Jody. How are things?” he said as he looked over at Dean. “Whoa! Slow down. Dean’s here, I’ll put you on speaker.” He pulled the phone away from his ear and hit the button to turn on the speaker.  
“Hey Jody,” Dean said, “What’s up?”  
“Dean, you’re ok!” a female voice came from the speaker. “Sam, you found him? He’s ok?”  
“All good,” Dean replied with a small laugh, “still have the… well, you know.” He glanced at Mac.  
“Good, that’s good,” said Jody with a sigh.  
“So, what’s up, Jody?” asked Sam.  
There a couple seconds of silence. “Jody?” Dean questioned, “What’s going on?”  
“Alex is missing,” Jody responded quietly. “She didn’t come home from work last night and I’m worried.”  
“On our way,” said Dean. “See you soon.”  
“No, no, you don’t have to. I’m sure she’s fine. I’m just paranoid. She probably went to a friend’s house after work and probably forgot to call,” Jody said worriedly.  
“I don’t think that’s something Alex would do,” replied Sam. “We’ll be there soon. No argument.”  
“Ok, thanks” said Jody with a sigh of relief.   
Sam looked at Mac as he hit the button to disconnect the call and put the phone down. “How long will it take you to get ready?”  
She looked at him quizzically, “I’m not going”  
“Why not?” he queried.   
Dean looked over at Sam then at Mac, then back at Sam, “If she doesn’t want to come, she doesn’t come. Besides, she doesn’t know Jody and Jody doesn’t know her. This will be a hard-enough time for her and us without someone else tagging along.” He looked at Mac, “Right?”  
“Yeah,” replied Mac, “I’m really not up to meeting anyone else today. I would just like to hang around here if I can. I might even go back to bed for a while.”  
“We’ll probably be gone a few days,” said Sam, “Are you sure you’ll be alright? I’ll stay. Dean can handle this on his own.”  
“What?!” exclaimed Dean. “No,” said Mac at the same time.   
Sam looked from Mac to Dean and back to Mac, “You’re sure?”  
“Yea, you go on. Jody’s waiting for you. I’ll wait here,” replied Mac as she pushed Sam toward the stairs to the door.  
“Ok, if you’re sure,” Sam said, looking back at Mac.  
“Of course she’s sure. Let’s go,” called Dean as he headed to the garage and Baby.  
Sam turned and looked down at Mac. He reached down to hug her and kissed the top of her head. “We’ll be back as soon as we can.”  
“Come on, Sam,” Dean called. “Get a move on!”  
“Go. I’ll be fine,” Mac said with a smile and pushed him away again.  
“If you’re sure,” replied Sam.  
“Sam!” Dean yelled again.  
“Better go before Dean comes and hauls you away,” said Mac laughingly.   
Sam smiled, “Yeah, see you later?” he questioned.  
“Go… I’ll be here” Mac responded.  
Sam walked out the room, looking back at Mac with a smile as he left, “Bye” he said. She gave him a small wave, “Go!” she laughed.  
After the boys left, Mac sat at the table for a long while. She stared at the coffee mug in her hands, not really thinking about anything.   
Long after the coffee got cold, she finally rose and put the coffee mug in the sink. She walked into the library and looked around. She really didn’t take a good look yesterday. She was too distracted then to pay attention. She wondered at all the books and artifacts held here. She walked along the shelves, running her hands along the binds. Suddenly she felt that familiar tingle in her fingers. The one that told her this was something she needed to see. She pulled the book from the shelf. It was titled Nephilim.  
She walked to the table, sat down, opened the book and started reading.   
CHAPTER 2  
Several days later the boys came home from Jody’s. The door opened with a moan, then closed with a bang. Footsteps were heard on the stairs, clunk of boots hitting the metal.   
Mac was sitting at the first table in the library, staring off into space. Sam walked up the stairs, “Hey Mac. What ‘cha doin’?” No answer. He repeated, “Mac.” Still no answer. He walked up to her and put his hand on her shoulder. She jumped up from the chair, knocking it over, and yelled, “Abi!” Sam flew across the room. He hit the shelves, the books were knocked off and the shelves fell.   
“Oh, my god,” cried Mac, “Sam, I’m so sorry.” She ran to him and helped him to his feet. “You startled me.”  
“No worries. I’m ok,” he said as he stretched out his back, “What the hell was that?”  
Dean came into the room. He looked at the broken shelves, books on the floor, then at Sam, “What’s going on?” he asked.  
“Nothing,” Sam said at the same time Mac said, “I threw Sam.”  
“Threw Sam?” Dean quizzed, “How can YOU throw Sam?’  
“Well, I didn’t really throw him. I kind’a… forced him away. Very forcefully.” Mac replied.  
“How?” asked Sam. “Yeah, how?” asked Dean.  
“I’ll explain in a bit. Did you find Alex? Is she ok? How’s Jody?”  
“Yes, yes, and good,” replied Sam, “Alex was kidnapped by vamps. We took care of them. Everyone is ok. Now, sit… speak.”  
“I’m not a dog, Sam,” Mac said. But she picked up and righted the chair she was sitting in and sat back down. Sam moved and sat beside her. Dean took a chair across the table.   
“Mac,” Sam said quietly, “What’s going on? Why are you here?”  
“Sam, Dean. I need to tell you something. Something you’re not going to like,” she said with her head down.  
Sam put his hand over hers on the table, “Mac, whatever you have to tell us, it’s ok.”  
She looked up at him, “You’re so sweet,” she said with a small smile.  
“Ok, here goes.” She paused. “I don’t know any other way to say this, so I’ll just say it. I’m a witch,” she said.   
Dean and Sam looked at each other, “A what? Did I hear right? I thought you said you were a witch” Dean said. “Great, just great.”  
“Dean calm down. Let her explain” Sam scolded.  
“Explain what? Doesn’t she know we HUNT and KILL witches?” Dean’s voice rose with each word.  
“Yes, Dean. I know what you do. But I’m not the kind of witch you kill or could kill even if you wanted to. Believe me, many have tried. Let me tell you my story, from the beginning:  
“I was born in the spring of 1093. I had a mother and a father. We were, well not poor, but not nobility either. Just a working family. After I became an adult, still living with my parents as I was unwed, soldiers came to our village. They destroyed many houses and barns. Women and children were cut down in the street. Blood ran like a river.  
One of the soldiers rode up to me on his horse. He reached down and grabbed my hair, “You’re pretty,” he said gruffly, “and now you’re mine.” He laughed as he pulled me by the hair in front of him in the saddle. He held onto me with an iron grip. I was so frightened. We rode for what seemed like hours. Finally, he stopped in front of a barn. He dismounted and pulled me off the back of the horse. I was so sore, and my knees were so weak from the long ride, I fell. He laughed and pulled me up by the hair and started into the barn. He pushed me down on some hay and proceeded to untie his pants. He laughed as I screamed. He started to lay down on top of me, pushing my tunic up with one hand while pushing me down with the other. He laughed. I screamed. He tried to put his mouth over mine. I stopped screaming. “That’s better,” he said in his gravelly voice, “Now we can have some fun”  
I saw words and symbols forming in my mind. I didn’t realize what I was doing, but I spoke the words out loud. All of a sudden, he grabbed his throat, gasping for air. His face turned red. He was choking. His tried to stand. His face turned more and more red. Blood was coming out of his eyes, nose, mouth, ears. It was horrible. Then, he just exploded. Literally exploded. There was nothing left but the blood and pieces of him everywhere.   
I just laid there for a long while, covered in his blood and other parts. Not wanting to move. Amazed at what I did. Finally, as the sun set and it started to get cooler, I sat up and looked around. I didn’t really know where I was, but I knew I wanted to go home. I sat and cried, repeating “I want to go home, I want to go home” over and over. When I opened my eyes, I was in my own hut. I didn’t know how I got there. No one was there. No fire in the hearth. I got up, dusted off my tunic as best I could with all the blood, and stepped out the door. Fire was everywhere. Bodies everywhere. People running, screaming, calling for loved ones. I started out, looking for my parents. I stopped every person I ran into, asking if they knew where my mother and father were. No one could answer me. I ran all over the village, finally returning home. I walked slowly to the barn behind the house. There was the most horrifying thing I could possibly imagine. My father was hanging from the rafters, my mother was laying on the floor. They both were ripped open from throat to groin. I screamed. Suddenly, fire exploded from my fingers, hitting the dry hay on the floor. Everything went up in flames. I cried and ran from the barn. Very quickly, it burned to the ground. I ran through the village, crying, screaming. Each time I looked at someone or something, it caught fire, if it wasn’t burning already.   
That’s when I figured out that I wasn’t normal. I ran and ran until I couldn’t run anymore. I collapsed beneath a tree, tired, spent. I laid down, closed my eyes and slept. I wandered the forest and countryside for days. The only thing I ate were berries I found along the paths. I drank water from the streams I crossed. I finally stopped running at the next village I happened upon. A poor farmer and his wife took me in. I stayed with them until they died. The farmer didn’t know what I had done, what I was. But the wife knew. Not what I did, but what I was. I practiced my “craft” with her in secret, learning what the words and symbols meant. How to use them correctly. How to use them for good, not evil.  
Time went on. Centuries passed. Everything I knew died off. But I stayed young. I aged, but very, very slowly. I learned to move and change my name every ten years or so. And I kept doing that. Moving, changing myself, moving, changing myself. I needed something to practice and use my skills on. So, I started hunting. Everything and anything. I figured out what different monsters were, what killed what, what to look for. But I was on my own. I became very lonely. Finally, in 1252, I came upon a large village. It was beautiful, regal. I decided to stay for a while. I had been travelling the countryside for many years and I was tired.  
I opened an Apothecary so I would be able to use my skills without people knowing what I was. After a few years, the townspeople came to trust me and my skills. I healed illnesses, saved children, gave people love, anything and everything they needed or wanted.  
I met a wonderful man. We fell in love, married, and had a child. I lost them to a bunch of vampires. I was in town shopping at the market. When I returned home, I found blood everywhere, my husband’s throat ripped out, my daughter gone. I was devastated, broken, furious. I needed to find the monsters that did this. I tracked them for a few years.   
Finally, I found the nest. I watched for a few days, biding my time, learning their patterns, their habits. Waiting for the opportunity to wipe them out. I was about to seize a chance when I heard a familiar voice. One I hadn’t heard while I was watching. It was my daughter. She was walking back to their camp with about three of them, all around her age. From where I was, I couldn’t see if she had any marks, if she had been turned. I didn’t wait to find out. I fled. I didn’t wipe out the nest, I didn’t call out to my daughter. I just fled.  
I wandered around lost for quite a few years after that. I was grieving the loss of my love and my child. I finally decided enough was enough. I was through feeling sorry for myself. So, I started hunting again. I hunted for centuries. Moving from town to town, city to city, country to country. Until finally I ended up in Palo Alto. I was drawn to Stanford. At the time, I didn’t know what it was. Until I saw you, Sam. Something clicked. So, I stopped running. The rest you know.”  
Sam and Dean were very quiet, watching Mac. Neither said anything at first, seeming to digest this information. Sam was the first to speak, “So, you are trying to tell me that you are almost a thousand years old.” When Mac nodded, all Sam could say was “Wow. Um. Crap.”   
Dean looked from Sam to Mac, “Well, you look fantastic for your age. How do you keep your skin so soft and supple?” he said sarcastically.  
“Dean, enough,” directed Sam, “Mac, why did you tell us this? And why did you leave Palo Alto? Where have you been?”  
“Well,” she replied, “I told you because you needed to know who… what I am. I left Palo Alto because I felt I was getting too close to you, but you were with Jess and I didn’t, no couldn’t, jeopardize that relationship. I don’t know why. I just knew it had to be.” She continued, “I was in London. As I said before, there were family things I had to attend to. And I had to leave you alone.”  
“Why?” asked Dean gruffly, “Why come back now?”  
“Something in my gut told me I had to. Right now, I don’t know what or why. I just know I need to be here,” she said softly. “I’m sorry, boys. I’m done. I need rest.” She paused for a moment, “You know, you two are the first people, outside of my husband, who have heard my story. I trust you will keep it to yourselves.” Mac rose from the table and started toward the hall to her bedroom.   
“Mac, are you ok?” Sam asked in a worried tone. Dean looked over at Sam and saw the expression on his face. “I’m sure she’s ok, dude,” he tried to comfort Sam.  
Mac turned and gave the boys a small, tired smile, “I’m ok. I just need rest. Good night.” With that, she turned, walked down the steps and went to her room. She laid on the bed, staring at the ceiling for what seemed like forever. Finally, she must have dozed off.  
A few hours later, she was shaken awake. Her body was trembling, her face was wet, and her throat was sore. Sam was sitting beside her on her bed, shaking her shoulders firmly, “Mac! Mac! Wake up!”  
“Sam,” she said, puzzled, “What’s happening?”  
“You’re having a nightmare,” replied Sam. She tried to think what the dream was about. But she couldn’t remember. Suddenly, feelings, terrors really, began washing over her. She started shaking, crying. She buried her face in Sam’s chest. He held her firmly, gently stroking the back of her head with one hand, while the other kept a firm grip around her waist. He held her until she was spent. He pressed her head into his chest when she tried to pull away and kept her there until she seemed to calm. Finally, the sobs subsided. She raised her head and gave him a small, one sided smile. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, “I don’t know what this is all about.”   
“Don’t ever say sorry to me, Mac,” replied Sam, “you have nothing to apologize for. Are you ok now? Think you can sleep?”  
“Yeah, I think so. Don’t go!” she exclaimed as Sam started to rise from the bed, “Please, stay with me?”  
Sam looked at her intently, “Are you sure?”  
“I’m sure. I don’t want to be alone,” Mac replied meekly. Mac moved over on the bed to give Sam room to lay beside her. She laid with her head on his shoulder, his arms wrapped around her. She felt safe, at peace for the first time in a very long time. They slept, wrapped in each other’s arms.  
“Yo, Sammy!” Dean called down the hall, “Breakfast!”  
Mac slowly opened her eyes and looked up. Sam was looking at her with a smile on his face, “Good morning,” he whispered as he kissed the top of her head. “What are you smiling about?” she asked. “I found out I like watching you sleep,” he replied. Her face turned red with embarrassment, “How long have you been awake?” she asked him. “Not long,” he replied as they both heard Dean yelling again, “Hey, Sam, get a move on will you! We have things to do!”  
Sam and Mac both rose from the bed. Mac realized she only had a t-shirt on, the one she always used to sleep. It was a t-shirt from Stanford. Sam looked at it, raised one eyebrow quizzically. “Don’t ask,” Mac said in answer to his look. She grabbed the robe from the chair where she tossed it when she went to bed. She opened the door and paused before going through. She turned to find Sam right behind her. “Sam, thank you. I don’t know what got into me last night. I haven’t had scary feelings like that for centuries. I don’t want you to think I’m weak, cause I’m not,” she said as she looked at the floor.   
Sam grabbed her chin and raised her head to look into her face, “Don’t worry about it, Mac. I would never think you were weak. We all have terrors sometimes. That doesn’t make us weak. We’d better go before Dean comes looking for us,” he chuckled as Dean started yelling down the hall again.  
Mac walked into the kitchen, with Sam one step behind, holding her waist. He guided her to the table and pushed her down into a chair. “I’ll get coffee, you sit,” he said.   
Dean looked up from the computer he was reading. He looked from Sam to Mac and back to Sam, “Sleep well?” he inquired with a not unkind smirk.   
“Fine,” mumbled Mac.   
“Great!” smiled Sam. “So, what’s on the agenda for today? Did you find us a case?”  
“No, but I have a lead on something to remove this,” Dean replied as he patted his forearm. “There is a book, The Book of the Damned. It supposedly can do or undo any curse. Since Rowena says this is just a curse, maybe there’s something in that book that can tell us how to get rid of it.”  
“Sweet! Where is it?” Sam replied.   
“No clue,” said Dean, “But we need to find it.”  
“No, you don’t,” said Mac.  
“Well, do you know where the last place it was spotted?” asked Sam as he sat down, ignoring what Mac had said. He handed Mac a cup and grabbed the computer from Dean.   
“No,” said Dean, “I figured you’d have better luck finding that than I could. Bacon?” He pushed a plate toward Mac.   
“Thanks,” she said with a smile as she picked up a piece and put it in her mouth. “You really don’t want that book,” noted Mac.   
Sam quickly tapped the keyboard, searching for information on The Book of the Damned. Dean’s cell vibrated on the table. He picked it up, read the message, and turned the phone toward Sam. “Holy crap,” he said. “It’s from Charley. She said she traced this number to about ten miles away, then lost the signal when she hit Lebanon. Do you think this means we’re in a blackhole or something?”   
“Not a blackhole, but maybe we can send and receive signals, but can’t be traced,” Sam replied. Dean rose from the table and headed out toward the library. Sam rose, grabbing the laptop, and followed Dean. Mac also followed from the kitchen, bringing her coffee with her.   
“Awesome!?!” noted Dean, “I’ll let her know where to meet us.”  
Dean started up the stairs to the door. Sam started to proceed after him, then stopped. “You coming?” he asked Mac.   
“No,” she replied, “I’ll just wait. I don’t want to scare her off.”  
“Ok. Be right back,” said Sam as he started up the stairs, two at a time to catch up with Dean.  
After about 20 minutes, the door opened. In walked a small, redheaded girl. She had a bright yellow backpack slung over her shoulder, a jean jacket that had seen better days, and a “Hello Kitty” t-shirt on. She was cute, in a child-like way. “So, this is your super-secret clubhouse?” she inquired with a lilting, melodic voice as she started down the stairs. She stopped about half-way down when she noticed Mac in the entrance to the library. “Sorry! I didn’t realize you would have company. I’ll go,” she commented as she turned to go back up the stairs.   
“Nonsense,” said Sam as he turned her around again and gently pushed her down the remaining stairs. Dean came through the door and closed it with a loud bang. “Welcome to our humble hole,” he said as he swept his arms out, walking down the stairs.  
Mac walked down the steps and around the war room table. She held her hand out to Charley, “Hi, I’m Mac. A friend of Sam and Dean’s,” she said by way of introduction, “And you must be Charley. The boys speak very highly of you.”  
Charley shook Mac’s hand as she looked from Dean to Sam (who was now standing behind and to the side of Mac with his arm around her waist) to Mac. “Uh, hi,” she said. “I wish I could say the same of you, but… who are you?” Charley requested puzzled.  
Mac laughed, “Dean and Sam didn’t remember me until a few days ago. Don’t worry about it.”  
“If Dean and Sam didn’t remember you, how could they talk about me?” Charley asked. “Never mind. These boys have a lot of weird things going on all the time.”  
“Hey,” Dean cried.   
Sam chuckled, “Yeah, we are definitely weird. So, Charley, what’s happening with you? What have you been doing?”  
“Well, you know. A little of this, a little of that, a little LARPing, a little hunting,” the last words were said in a whisper.   
“Hunting?” Dean questioned, “What have you been hunting?”  
“Oh, nothing much, just a ghost and a new vampire. You know, those things are really, really creepy. Anyway, I was in the neighborhood and wanted to stop in and see how you all were doing. And see if there was anything I could do to help you out with the – you know.” Charley nodded once to Dean’s forearm.  
Mac followed her nod and looked at Dean’s forearm. “I know all about it,” she said.  
Sam and Dean looked at each other. Charley looked at them both, “Ok. What?” she demanded.   
“Well,” started Dean. Interrupting Dean, Mac pulled away from Sam and walked over to Charley, “Let’s go have some coffee and the boys will take your stuff to a room, right boys?” She grabbed Charley’s arm and looked pointedly over her shoulder. She and Charley strolled arm in arm to the kitchen.  
When the boys came into the kitchen, the two girls were sitting across the table from each other, chatting and laughing like old friends. Charley looked up and smiled at both boys. Sam walked to Mac, gave her a kiss on the head, then took the seat beside her. Charley watched the interaction, then looked over at Dean with a raised eyebrow. “Don’t ask,” whispered Dean as he sat beside her. Charley shrugged her shoulders and looked at the laptop Dean brought back into the kitchen. She grabbed it as he was lifting the screen. “What are we looking for?” she asked as she looked at the screen as it woke up. “The Book of the Damned. Sounds interestingly sinister. What do we want it for?”  
“Sam and Dean think it may have information on removing the Mark,” Mac answered. “But, guys, you really don’t want this book. You realize this is very, very powerful, dark, black magic. You don’t know what the price will be. You know there is always a price, and with magic this dark and powerful, it will not be puppies and kittens.”  
“More like killing puppies and kittens,” Dean mumbled. Sam gave him a dirty, side look, “You’re right, Mac, but what are we supposed to do? IF we find the book, IF we can read it, IF we can find the right spell, IF, IF IF…”  
Charley commented, “Who will read and perform the spell even if you do find it?”  
Sam and Dean looked at Mac. “Yeah – woah. I won’t do that kind of magic.”  
“Hold up,” said Charley. “Are you a –,” she left the sentence unfinished.  
“Witch, yeah,” Dean replied to Charley. “Why?” he asked Mac.  
“Because I’m not that kind of witch, I don’t do that kind of magic,” replied Mac.  
“But you do witchcraft, spells, and things!” exclaimed Dean. “Why won’t you do this?”  
Mac’s voice rose, “Because, I won’t. This is VERY bad magic. If you want to find the Book and use it, be my guest. But I WILL NOT be any part of it!” With that Mac got up from the table and left the kitchen going to her room. Sam, Dean, and Charley all looked at each other. “What’s that all about?” Dean asked.  
“I don’t know,” said Sam, “I’ll go.” He rose from the table and went the direction Mac went.  
Sam gently knocked on Mac’s door and waited for a couple of seconds. When he didn’t hear anything, he reached down and slowly turned the doorknob, half expecting it to be locked. The knob turned easily in his hand. He slowly pushed the door open. “Mac?” he said quietly, “Are you ok?”  
Mac was sitting on the bed holding her head in her hands. “No, Sam, I’m not ok,” she said without raising her head.  
Sam walked over and sat beside her. She still didn’t look up. He put his arm around her shoulder and pulled her close, pulling her hands away with his other hand. He then grabbed her chin and slowly, gently turned her head to face him. There were tears streaking her face. She looked up at him and started sobbing, “You can’t let Dean do this. I have such a bad feeling about this.” She leaned into Sam’s chest, “This is so bad.”  
“Shh, don’t worry,” Sam tried to calm her, “We won’t do anything rash.”  
“Promise me you won’t look for that book! Promise me, Sam” Mac demanded against his chest.  
“I can’t promise that Mac,” Sam replied, “I’m sorry. I have to find something to save my brother. And if this book is it… I have to. I just have to.”   
Mac raised her head and looked at Sam sadly. “I know,” she replied, “But this book is not the answer. As Bobby would say, it’s bad juju. Very bad juju.”  
“Sam, go back to Dean and Charley. Tell them I’m ok. I just want to be alone for a bit, if you don’t mind.” She turned away from Sam and laid down on the bed, face pressed into the pillow.  
“Are you sure?” Sam asked, “I want to stay.”  
“No,” Mac said into the pillow, “I’ll be out in a bit.” Sam slowly rose from the bed and walked to the door. He turned before exiting the room and looked at Mac. He opened his mouth to say something, but turned and walked through the door, closing it behind him, without saying another word.  
Mac finally rose from her bed several hours after laying down. Her eyes were swollen from the tears, her nose was red and runny. “Great! I look FANTASTIC,” she thought to herself. She splashed cold water on her face to try to be presentable. It somewhat worked, at least her eyes were less puffy, and her nose stopped running. It was still red though. “Oh, well, they either love me or hate me, no matter what I look like”. She left her room and walked to the kitchen.  
As she walked into the kitchen, she heard soft voices coming from the library. The kitchen was empty, so she assumed it was Sam, Dean and Charley. She rounded the corner and stepped up into the library. Only Sam and Dean were there. “Where’s Charley?” she asked.   
Dean and Sam looked at each other. “She’s gone,” said Dean.   
“You mean to look for the book, don’t you?” Mac said with exasperation, “Sam I told you this was a bad idea.”  
“I know, Mac. But we have to,” proclaimed Sam, “I’m sorry.”  
“I know Sam. I just wish you didn’t feel like you need to do this,” she resigned.  
“You’re not mad?” asked Sam.   
“No, not really. I knew this was all going to happen. I should have prepared myself better. It just kind of came as a shock, I guess. Finding out the book really was out there. But, even if you find it you have to realize there are others who are looking for it, too. These others are not as nice as I am. And, even if you keep it away from those others, I will still not read that book. You’ll have to find someone else to do that.”  
“I think we have that covered,” Dean replied to Mac. “We do know other witches, you know.”  
Mac laughed, “Yeah, I guess. What’s to eat? I’m starving.”  
Dean rose from the table, “It’s my turn this time,” he said as he started up the stairs. “Back in a flash.”  
It was almost an awkward silence in the library with Dean not there to act as a buffer between Sam and Mac. Sam was sitting across the table from Mac, holding her hands in his, looking very pensive. Mac looked curiously at him, “What are you thinking about?”   
“Nothing,” Sam replied looking into Mac’s eyes, “Actually, I am curious about something.”  
“Shoot,” said Mac, “If I can answer, I will. If I can’t, I will tell you. I will never lie to you.”  
“Earlier, when we were talking about the Book, you mentioned something. It didn’t really register until now,” he commented.   
“And?” Mac asked with a raised eyebrow.   
“How did you know Bobby?” This came out, almost as one word.  
Mac sat back in the chair, still allowing Sam to hold her hands. “Sam, I can always tune into what you are thinking, feeling, doing. I try not to, but sometimes the feelings are just so overwhelming I can’t help it. I’m pretty sure you can sense what I’m going through, though maybe you don’t know what it is you’re feeling.”  
Sam cocked his head to one side, “You know, sometimes when I feel at my worst, I get this feeling of calm, peace. That everything will be ok. Is that you?”  
“Yeah, I think so,” Mac said softly. She paused for a minute. “I met Bobby about nine years ago, before I left for London. I kept in touch with him throughout the years, until he died. I wanted to come back then, but I couldn’t leave. I miss him. I know it is worse for you. He was like a father to you. Anyway, he and I would talk for hours, especially about you boys,” she chuckled, “He really loved you two. Any time he needed to vent about how stupid you two were behaving, or needed to bounce ideas off someone, he would usually call. After you two left, of course. He couldn’t be soft around you. So, I was able to find out more about what I was sensing from you and he was able to keep his sanity. You two really are not the easiest to deal with, you know.”  
Sam chuckled, “Yeah, I guess we can be difficult.”   
“Yeah,” smiled Mac. The door groaned open, and Dean came through carrying three Chinese takeout bags. “Grub time,” he called as he came down the stairs. He walked around the war table and up the steps into the library. Sam and Mac were both smiling, looking at each other. “What did I miss? You two look like the cats that ate the canary,” Dean inquired.  
“Nothing,” replied Sam, “Mac was just telling me about knowing Bobby.”  
“You knew Bobby? How did you know Bobby?” Dean asked sullenly. “He never mentioned you.”  
“Yeah, I know. I asked him not to,” replied Mac.   
“Why?” quizzed Sam.  
Mac just smiled, “Can we eat? I’m starving!!”  
Sam rose from the table and walked to the kitchen. He came back with cutlery and plates and handed one each to Mac and Dean. They each took some food from the containers and began eating, not really speaking.   
Once the food was gone and the dishes cleaned up, Dean stretched, “I’m going to my room,” he said with a yawn. He turned and headed out of the kitchen and turned in the direction of his room.  
Mac was standing by the sink, “Good night,” she called after Dean.   
“You too,” Dean replied from somewhere down the hall.  
Sam went over to Mac, put his hands on her shoulders and slowly turned her around. She looked up into his face and smiled. “I’m tired, too. Even though I slept great after…” she drifted off, leaving the sentence unfinished.  
“Ok,” Sam replied softly, “I’ll finish up here. You go onto bed.” He stepped away and gently pushed her toward the door. She turned, grabbed the front of his shirt and pulled his head down. She quickly kissed him on the cheek, turned and almost ran down the steps into the hall and turned towards her room. She quickly walked through the door and closed it behind her, leaning against it with a sigh. She smiled to herself, thinking about the look on his face. She changed into her ‘sleep’ t-shirt, washed her face, and crawled into her bed. She reached over and turned off the light. She fell asleep quickly.  
It was dark. She wasn’t sure if her eyes were open or still closed. She was paralyzed. Slowly, reality came back and she relaxed. She knew it wasn’t her dream, wasn’t her feeling. She turned on the light and rose from the bed. She opened the door and looked up and down the hall. She paused, listening. She heard a quite whimper from the direction of Sam’s room. She stepped into the hall, quietly closed the door behind her, and tiptoed to Sam’s room. She paused at his door, pressing her ear against it, listening. She heard a quiet moan coming from inside the room. She slowly turned the doorknob and slowly pushed the door open, “Sam,” she called quietly. No response. She walked into the room and closed the door behind her. “Sam,” she whispered again. Still no response from Sam. But he was restless, moaning softly. Mac walked quietly over to the bed. She reached down and touched Sam’s face. He calmed immediately. She smiled and started to turn to leave. Sam grabbed her wrist, holding it to his face. “Don’t go,” he whispered. “I guess it’s my turn.” He hadn’t yet opened his eyes.   
“Your turn for what?” Mac asked in a low voice. He didn’t answer. He pulled on her wrist, pulling her down beside him. He wrapped his arms around her, holding her close, breathing softly against the top of her head. She lifted her head slightly to look at his face. He was looking at her intently. She was glad the room was dark so Sam couldn’t see her face, how red it was. A shy smile was on her lips as she just watched him. He raised his head slightly, so it was just millimeters from hers. He slowly raised it the rest of the way, so his lips softly touched hers. He drew back, watching her face. Her eyes were wide with wonder. She started to shake with anticipation. She leaned down and touched her lips to his. When they kissed next, it was with more intensity than either of them dreamed.  
The next morning, there was a knock at Sam’s door. “Sam,” Dean said as he opened the door. “Oh, sorry,” he said as Sam and Mac opened their eyes and looked at him. “I’ll leave the two of you alone,” he said as he stepped back and closed the door. “Next time put a sock or something on the doorknob,” he called through the closed door. Sam and Mac looked at each other and giggled. “Well, that was fun,” Sam said with a chuckle.  
“No kidding,” answered Mac.   
Sam pulled her head down to his face and gave her a slow, deep kiss. “Good morning,” he whispered.   
“Morning,” she whispered back. They both started to laugh as they heard banging down the hall and Dean singing very badly at the top of his lungs. “I guess we better get up before Dean destroys the kitchen,” said Sam.   
“And my ears,” laughed Mac. They both rose from the bed, found the clothes they had thrown off the bed, dressed and left Sam’s room.

CHAPTER 3  
After the three of them had eaten their fill of bacon (turkey for Sam), eggs (whites for Sam), and toast, and dishes were cleaned up and put away, they were sitting in the library discussing what was on the agenda for the day. Dean was scanning the police alerts looking for a new case. Sam was reading online news. Mac was looking through the lore for something/ anything on Caine. She really needed to know more about him. She got a weird, indescribable feeling in her gut every time his name was mentioned, but she didn’t know why. Dean’s phone vibrated on the table. He picked it up, “Well, the prodigal son checks in,” he said as he hit the button to answer the call. “Hey, Cas. What’s up?”  
Sam and Mac couldn’t hear what Castiel was saying but knew from the look on Dean’s face that it wasn’t good. They both stared at Dean when he disconnected the call and put the phone back on the table.  
“So? What did Cas have to say?” asked Sam. “Nothing much,” replied Dean, “Only that Caine is, well.” He paused for a second, “It looks like Caine is killing a bunch of people. Cas thinks he’s killing his family tree,” he said with a sigh.  
“No, I said he was killing off entire families,” said a voice from the hall outside the library. Following the voice, a man in a trench coat walked up the steps. “Hello Dean,” said the man in a deep, gravelly voice.  
“What are you doing here? I thought you were following Caine,” cried Dean.  
Mac stared at the man intently, sweeping her eyes from the top of his shoes to the top of his head.   
“I lost him,” replied the man. He glanced at Mac.  
Sam, rising from his chair to walk over and stand beside Mac, said, “Cas, this is Maxine Stratford. Mac, this is Castiel. He’s an…”  
“An angel,” Mac cut him off, “I can see that.” She rose from the chair and held out her hand, “Pleased to meet you Castiel.”  
Cas took her hand. He looked at her intently and opened his mouth to speak. Mac very slightly shook her head, so Cas closed it again. Then he said, “You too, Maxine,” and dropped her hand.  
Dean looked up at Cas, “What do you mean, you lost him? Where were you? Where did he go?”  
“I am not sure,” replied Cas, “but he has killed entire families. The last one he killed was Joseph Fallan.”  
Sam had sat down in the chair next to Mac’s. “How do you know it’s entire families?” he asked Cas. “I saw all the graves,” replied Cas wearily as he sat across the table from Mac and Sam, “The last grave he filled was for Joseph Fallan.”  
Sam started typing on the laptop. “Here,” he noted, “Joseph Fallan. Wow, what a rap sheet – armed robbery, assault, murder… The list goes on and on.”  
Dean rose from his chair and walked over to stand behind Sam. “Does he have any family?” he asked Sam.   
“Yeah, he has a son, Paul Fallan, currently in jail for aggravated assault and murder. It’s not far from here – the Florence Penn in Colorado. We might be able to catch Caine before he kills Paul.”  
“Let’s go then,” cried Dean as he ran out of the library toward the hall leading to the garage.  
“Dean, wait,” called Sam, “We need to grab some things. We need to be prepared.”  
“Prepared for what?” Dean called back.  
“Never mind,” yelled Sam as he shook his head, “Meet you there in 5.” He got up and started to walk out to the hall. He looked over his shoulder at Mac, “Are you coming this time or are you going to stay here?” he asked her.   
“I’d like to come this time if you don’t mind,” she replied from her seat.   
“Not at all. I want you to come along. I’ll meet you at the car,” he said over his shoulder as he walked away.  
Mac and Cas rose from the table at the same time. “Look, Cas,” she started.   
Cas interrupted her, “You do not need to explain.”   
“Yeah, I do. Sam and Dean know part of my story, but not the whole thing yet. I’m not ready for them to know everything, and that means I’m not ready for them to know about us. Can you just keep that quiet? Please? For Me?” she pleaded.   
Cas sighed, “I really do not like keeping things from Dean. But it is not the first time and probably will not be the last. Yes, I will keep our relationship a secret. For now.”   
Mac smiled at him, “Thanks Cas. I will tell them, just not now. I have to wait for the right time.” They heard Sam call out from down the hall, “It’s time to go. Come on!”  
The 6-hour drive to the prison was uneventful. Dean told Mac about how he and Cas met, which Mac already knew. Sam told stories about their childhood and their dad always keeping them on the road. Finally, they pulled up to the drive leading to the main gate of. There were police cars, people in uniforms, some with dogs wandering around. There was even a media van parked along the road. People were shouting over the loud siren going off. Dean proceeded slowly toward the main gate. A uniformed guard held up his hand indicating they stop. Dean put the car into park and rolled his window down. “State your name and business,” commanded the guard.   
“What’s going on?” asked Dean as he started to reach into his jacket.   
The guard pulled out his gun and aimed it at Dean. “Hands where I can see them,” the guard yelled.   
“Woah, woah, woah,” said Dean gently. “We’re FBI. I was just reaching for my badge.” The guard nodded, not moving the gun.   
Dean reached into his jacket and pulled out his FBI badge, opened it and handed it to the guard. “What about the rest of you?” he demanded. Sam and Cas pulled out their badges. Sam looked worriedly at Mac; she didn’t have a badge. He didn’t make one for her yet. She pulled a badge from her jacket, handed it to Dean, and gave Sam a quick wink. Another man walked up to the Impala. This one was short, round, and wore a cheap suit. “What’s this?” he asked the guard.   
The guard replied, “FBI, sir.” He handed the short man all the badges. The short man looked at them quickly and handed them all back to Dean. “Glad you’re here, fellas,” he said as he leaned against the window, “and gal. How did you hear about the escape so fast?”   
Dean and Cas looked at each other, “You didn’t call head office? They don’t usually give us much detail. We just go where we are told. Who escaped? When? And who are you?” inquired Dean.   
The man replied, “Warden Smithson. Paul Fallan escaped just a couple of hours ago, sometime in the early morning.” He waved at the guard manning the gate. The gate started to slowly open. “Just head on in,” said the Warden, “I’ll be right behind you.”  
Dean drove the Impala through the gate at a crawl. He parked the car where the guard motioned him to go. “Ok, anyone else think this is really not good?” he asked as he looked at the other three.   
“That’s an understatement,” replied Sam.   
“Really, really not good?!” Mac chimed in.   
“Let’s go,” said Cas and they all opened their doors to exit the vehicle.  
Inside the prison, they met with Warden again. “Warden, can you have someone show my partners Young and Plante where your surveillance tapes are? You can take my partner Agent Beyoncé and me to the cell,” commanded Dean.  
“Sure,” said the Warden, “Thompson, take these agents to the guard station and show them the tapes from last night.”   
“Yes, sir. Right this way” Thompson indicated the direction to the guard station with his arm.  
Mac and Sam started watching the surveillance recordings from dinner time on, through lights out, and into the early morning hours. Dean and Cas entered the room and closed the door behind them. “Anything?” asked Sam.   
“Nope. You?” replied Dean.  
“Not yet” said Sam.   
Dean pulled up a chair beside Sam and Cas stood beside Mac and they all looked at the screens. “STOP!” cried Dean, “Go back. Slowly… a little more… STOP. Do you see this? Can you blow it up?” On the screen was a shadow of a man standing outside Paul Fallan’s cell. Sam turned the dial to blow up the picture. Dean looked at Cas, “Is that who I think it is?” he asked.   
“Yes, I believe that is Caine. We’re too late – he has Paul,” replied Cas. As all three turned to leave the room, the Warden came in.   
“Did you find indication of how this happened?” he asked the group. Sam walked up to him and put his arm on the Warden’s shoulders, turning him so they could all leave the room. Mac quickly put the screen back to its original size.  
“Warden, can you get us a copy of that footage? We have a few leads we would like to follow up on,” said Sam in a gentle voice.   
“Sure, whatever you need,” replied the Warden.   
“Great! We’ll be in touch,” said Sam as he handed the Warden his card. “But don’t hesitate to call if something else comes up. My email address is on there so you can send the file.” Sam gently guided the warden down the hall and out of the prison. Mac, Cas, and Dean followed.  
After they returned to the car, Sam pulled out his laptop, connected to the hotspot on his phone, and started a search on Paul Fallan. “Well, it looks like he’s the end of the line,” he told them. “Joseph Fallan was an only child, both parents’ dead. He only had one son, Paul. Paul never married nor had a serious girlfriend from the looks of it, so he doesn’t have… Crap.”  
“What?” exclaimed Dean, Cas, and Mac at the same time.   
“It turns out Paul does have an estranged son. He’s 12 years old living just outside Colorado Springs, about an hour from here” answered Sam.  
“Great!” exclaimed Dean.  
“Why great? What does that mean?” inquired Cas.   
“Well Cas,” Dean answered, “It means we know where Caine is going to be. It means we can get there before him and trap him and get him to remove this bloody thing off my arm.”  
“Dean, don’t you think if Caine could remove the mark, he would have, and not lived eons with it?” Mac asked quietly.   
“I know, I know,” said Dean in a frustrated voice.   
“We need to do something,” implored Sam, “We can’t just sit here and let a child die!”   
“No, we can’t, Sam. But we need a plan. Dean, you are not going to get Caine to remove the mark. He can’t do it,” noted Mac, “But there must be a way to save the child.”  
“Mac’s right. We need to figure out a way to save him,” commented Sam.  
“So, what do you suggest?” said Cas.   
“How about we kill Caine? He did say I would have to kill him one day. I guess today is as good as any. That way we’ll kill two birds with one stone, or Blade,” Dean chuckled. “But we’ll need Crowley to bring the First Blade,” resigned Dean. He got out of the car to make the call.   
“How do we even know Caine will come tonight?” queried Cas.   
“We don’t. But it’s the best idea we have for now” responded Sam.  
Dean opened the car door and sat back down in the driver’s seat. “Crowley’s on board. Sam, where are we going?”   
Sam gave Dean directions to the home of Marie Sanchez and her son Aaron.  
CHAPTER 4  
Dean, Cas, Sam, and Mac were outside the barn at the Sanchez home. Crowley appeared from nowhere, holding a soft leather cloth. “Hello, Boys,” said Crowley in his gruff voice. Dean reached out for the cloth, but Crowley pulled his hand back. “How do I know you are telling the truth?” he asked in his English accent.   
“Look at my face and tell me if I’m lying” replied Dean, “Now give me that thing so we can do this.” He held out his hand.   
“How do I know you’ll give it back,” commented Crowley.   
Dean smirked, “If I don’t give it back, then you all will have a much bigger problem. Now hand it over.” Crowley folded the cover away to expose the First Blade. The mark on Dean’s arm flared a bright red. His eyes glazed over for a small moment as he stared at the Blade. He gave his head a quick shake and reached out to grab the Blade from Crowley’s hand.   
“Cas, remember what we talked about,” Dean said as he walked up the stairs to the loft.  
“Yes, I remember,” said Cas sadly.  
“What? What did you talk about?” demanded Sam, “What? Tell me!” His voice rose in a panic.  
Mac grabbed Sam’s arm and pulled him away as he started after Dean. “Sam, stop. Calm down. I’ll tell you what was talked about,” she said calmly. She pulled Sam around the side of the barn, out of earshot of Cas and Crowley.  
“Sam, we don’t know who or what is going to come back down those steps,” Mac explained. “We discussed what to do if something other than Dean comes down.”  
“You are not killing my brother!” yelled Sam. He started to shake with anger. Mac pulled Sam close and wrapped her arms around his waist, putting her head on his chest. This seemed to calm him somewhat.   
“If we kill anyone… anything, it won’t be Dean. Not anymore.” Mac whispered against Sam’s chest. He wrapped his arms around her and held her close until all the anger was gone.   
“I know,” he said with a sigh. “Hold on,” he said and pushed Mac away slightly, “Why did you say ‘WE’? Who discussed this?” He started shaking again.   
“Sam, calm down. Cas, Crowley, me – we aren’t any match for Caine or whatever else comes down those steps. But the three of us together might be strong enough to…” she trailed off. Sam looked down at her face and saw the sadness reflected.   
He realized she was right. He stopped shaking and pulled her close for a moment. He released her saying, “Let’s go back and see what’s happening.” Mac agreed and they walked hand in hand back to the front of the barn.  
As they rounded the building, they saw Cas and Crowley had both been beaten. Cas had a cut lip, swollen eye, blood dripping from his nose, and a torn coat. Crowley had a cut on his forehead that was bleeding profusely. He too had a swollen eye and blood dripping from his nose.   
“What happened?” asked Mac in a low, serious voice.   
“What happened? What happened?” Crowley whined, “I’ll tell you what happened. Caine happened, that’s what.”  
“So…he’s here,” noted Mac.   
“What do we do now?” asked Sam.   
Mac looked up at his face, gave a small one-sided smile and said, “Now we wait.” She walked over to a bale of hay sitting just outside the barn door and sat down. Sam walked over and sat beside her. Crowley and Cas stood where they were. They waited.  
After about an hour, and some very loud noises coming from the loft, Dean came down the stairs. He was battered and bruised and covered in blood. The First Blade was dripping blood all the way down. Dean’s arm was vibrating. He had a maniacal look in his eyes, staring at each of them in turn. When Dean reached the bottom step, Sam slowly started toward him. Mac put her hand on Sam’s arm, “Don’t” she whispered.   
Sam patted her hand, then slowly, gently lifted it. “It’s ok,” he whispered back without looking at her, keeping his eyes on Dean. He continued to walk the 10 feet toward Dean. He held up his hands, “Dean. Dean,” he said just louder than a whisper. “It’s ok, Dean. You won. Caine is gone. Drop the blade.” He reached Dean, stretched his right arm out to touch Dean’s left. “Come on, Dean. Put it down. You’re done. Caine is dead,” Sam continued to speak very slowly and softly. Dean raised his right arm and drew it back to prepare to swing the First Blade at Sam. Sam clenched Dean’s left arm tighter, “Dean. Hey, it’s me, Sam. Come on, dude. Let it go.” Dean looked at Sam’s face with a fierce snarl. Sam let go of Dean’s left arm and slapped him hard across the face. So hard Dean’s head turned in the direction of the hit. Dean whipped his head around and growled, raising the Blade even higher. Mac, watching the exchange anxiously, took one step forward, raised her hand, and opened her mouth to speak. Sam caught the motion from the corner of his eye, “No, Mac. Leave this to me,” he said without raising his voice, “Trust me.” While Sam was talking to Mac, Dean was looking at Sam, then Mac, Crowley, and Cas. His lips were curled in a snarl, the look in his eyes said, ‘I’m going to kill you all and laugh’. Dean took a step forward, then another, pushing past Sam. He took a third step, then stopped when Sam grabbed him in a bearhug from behind, pinning his arms to his sides. Dean shook his head and growled. Sam continued to talk very softly to Dean, trying to calm him. This lasted only a few seconds but seemed like forever.   
Finally, the growling stopped, Dean raised his head, and seemed to relax. “Hey, you guys look worried,” he commented. His eyes were clear and focused.   
Sam relaxed his grip slightly, “Dean? Is that you?”   
“Yeah. Hey Sam, you’re breaking my ribs…” Dean groaned. Sam glanced at Mac because he couldn’t see Dean’s face. Mac gave him one very slight nod that said, ‘Dean is ok.’ Sam drew his arms back from Dean’s sides, the spun him around and gave him a different kind of hug, the brotherly kind.   
“Ok, Ok, Ok, Sam” Dean said with a small chuckle, hugging Sam back, “I’m ok. It’s ok.” Sam let him go and smiled. Dean turned back around to face the other three. “It’s done,” was all he said but he stepped forward and hugged Cas and Mac. He looked at Crowley and nodded his head, he wasn’t about to hug that one.   
Crowley held out his hand, “Ok, Squirrel. Time to go. I’ll take that back,” he nodded to the Blade.   
Dean started to hand the Blade to Crowley. Just before the Blade touched Crowley’s hand, Dean swung it to the left and held it out to Cas. He looked at Crowley, “I don’t trust you with it either. Cas, take this somewhere far away so it can never hurt anyone again.” Cas nodded and disappeared.   
Crowley looked incredulous. “Oh! And Crowley? I lied…Caine was never after you,” Dean said.   
Crowley narrowed his eyes and glared at Dean, “Well. That’s it then,” he said, “Try to help and get screwed over. Well don’t ever ask for my help again.” With that he, too, was gone.  
CHAPTER 5  
Sam, Dean, Mac and Cas were sitting at the table in the kitchen. They had just finished off a bucket of chicken Dean picked up from town. Cas, of course, had not eaten anything but sat with them just the same. “Dean,” said Cas. “What happened in the barn?” he asked when Dean looked at him.   
“Caine beat the crap out of me. I killed him. End of story,” Dean replied matter-of-factly.   
Sam looked over at him, his brow furrowed with worry. “Dean, you need to talk about this,” insisted Sam. “You can’t deal with this on your own.”   
Dean looked at Sam, then Cas, then Mac, then back to Sam. “Why? It won’t change anything. Caine couldn’t remove the Mark, so neither can I. What do I need to talk about? I am stuck with this thing for the rest of my life, so I better get used to it” Dean replied angrily.   
Sam looked over at Dean and said, “There is a way to remove it.”  
Mac looked at him, “How?”  
“Think about it. The Mark is a curse, right?” replied Sam.  
“Damn right it is” stated Dean.   
“It may be the first curse, but it is just a curse. All curses can be broken or removed,” stated Mac.   
Sam looked at her, “That’s right. And we know about the book that contains the spells to remove all curses.”  
“The Book of the Damned,” she replied with a sigh. “You don’t want to go messing around with that kind of magic. Sam, Dean, you already have Charley looking for it.”   
“Charley is looking for the Book of the Damned?” Cas interrupted.   
“Yes,” replied Sam.   
Mac continued, “That book is going to bring nothing but pain and suffering. Magic like that always comes with a price, and this price will be very, very steep. You need to get Charley to stop looking for it. You need to leave it alone,” she implored.  
“Maxine is right. We don’t want to know what will happen if we use it,” said Cas.   
Dean looked at Cas with narrowed eyes, “Cas, what do you know about the Book of the Damned?”   
“Not much,” replied Cas cagily.  
“Cas…” said Dean.   
Cas looked over at Dean, “I really do not know much about it,” he said resignedly, “It was created centuries ago by a mad nun. She became obsessed with breaking curses. So, she created this book from her own flesh and blood, devising ways to break and create curses. But any time one curse is broken, another one is created. Balance has to be maintained. And a curse as old as the Mark of Caine will have devastating effects. What will be created to break that one… I don’t even want to think about it.”  
Dean and Sam looked at each other, then at Cas. “So, what do we do?” asked Sam, “Dean can’t keep that Mark. It will kill him. Maybe not now, maybe not in a year or ten. But eventually. I can’t lose my brother.”   
Mac looked at him sadly, “Sam, I don’t think you will live long enough to see the Mark kill Dean. I think Dean will kill you first. Cas is right, we can’t use it.”  
Dean’s phone vibrated. Everyone looked at it. Charley’s name was on the screen. Dean hesitantly reached for it and hit the speaker button, “Hey, Charley. You’re on speaker. What’s the news?”   
Charley’s voice came over the speaker, very weak, “Dean? How soon can you get here?”   
“Get where? Charley, where are you?” Dean demanded, very worried.   
Sam piped in, “What happened, Charley?”  
There was a truck horn blast in the background. “I’m at a dive truck stop. Sam, Dean, I got stabbed.”  
“Oh my god, Charley. Are you ok?” Sam raised his voice, now very worried. “Charley, relax, take a deep breath, and tell us where you are,” said Dean calmly.   
“I don’t know. I see… The truck stop name is ‘Roger’s Rovers’ if that helps,” she replied, her voice very shaky.  
Sam quickly typed in his laptop. “It’s on Route 73. Bobby has a cabin near there.” He raised his voice slightly, “Charley, there’s a cabin nearby. Head there. It will be stocked with food, weapons, and first aid supplies.” He gave Charley directions. Dean disconnected the call after assuring Charley they would be there very soon.   
Mac, Sam and Dean headed to the cabin. Cas decided to stay back. He had a very bad feeling and expressed that to Sam and Dean. The warning was ignored.  
They reached the cabin after a couple of hours. Dean opened the door slowly, calling out to Charley so there weren’t any surprises. The cabin was quiet. The three walked in quietly. Charley was at the table, head laying on her arms. Sam walked over to her and put his hand on her shoulder and said her name in a whisper. Charley sat up quickly, “Merry Christmas!” Sam took one step back. Charley looked over at him, very disoriented. She shook her head once to clear her head, then peered at Sam with narrowed eyes, “Sam? Is that you?”   
Sam chuckled softly, “Yeah, Charley, it’s me. And Dean, and Mac.”  
“Huh? Who?” she asked, still seemingly disoriented. She rubbed her eyes and stretched. She pushed her chair away from the table and stood up, twisting back and forth to stretch out her back, and winced in pain. She finally looked at Sam clearly and her face lit up. She stepped over to him and gave him a hug and winced again. She peered around Sam to look at Dean. The smile on her face got bigger. She stepped away from Sam and held her arms open; she didn’t want to move much more.   
Dean walked over to her and stepped into her arms, “Hey, kiddo,” he said into her hair, “How are you doin’?”  
“Well, you know. I’ll live. Did you know that dental floss works for stiches? Now my side is minty fresh,” she replied. Suddenly, her knees gave out. Dean held her tightly. He reached down, grabbed her legs, picked her up and carried her to the sofa in the middle of the room.  
Mac walked over to the fireplace and lit a fire with a wave of her hand and snap of her fingers. Charley looked over at her and smiled, “Hey Mac. Do you think you could do something about this?” she asked as Mac walked over to the sofa.   
“Hey Charley,” Mac replied, “Sure. Let’s see.” She lifted Charley’s shirt up to expose the wound. Sam and Dean both looked at it.   
“Wow, good job,” said Sam, impressed.   
Charley gave a small smile, “Thanks.” Mac put her hand on the stitches, closed her eyes, and very quietly whispered words that no one else could hear or understand. When she pulled her hand away the cut was gone, but a small scar remained. Charley looked at it, then up at Mac and raised an eyebrow questioningly. Mac smiled, shrugged her shoulder, “Sorry. I have to leave some sort of reminder of this stupidity.”  
Charley sat up on the sofa and moved so Dean could sit beside her. Sam sat in the chair across from them, with Mac sitting on the arm beside him. Dean asked Charley what had happened since they last saw her. She told them about travelling around the world, looking for the Book of the Damned; following one lead after another. Finally, she found it. But when she retrieved it, she realized someone was following her. She told them about changing her travelling pattern to lose her ‘tail’; about returning to the States; and going from side of the country to the other. The person after her caught up with her once, she recounted, but she was able to get away. But not before he stabbed her. Through most of the story, Sam, Dean, and Mac stayed quiet, only asking questions to clarify one small point or another. After Charley stopped talking, the room remained silent for a few minutes as everyone digested what had happened. Finally, Mac looked at Charley with a tilt of her head, “Charley, did you get a look him?” she asked.   
“No, not really,” replied Charley, “but I did see a tattoo. On his wrist. It was a triangle with an X and V.”   
She grabbed a piece of paper and drew the symbol she saw:   
Mac sighed, “I was afraid of that,” she resigned.   
Sam looked up at her and queried,” Mac, do you know who this guy is?”   
Mac looked at the floor for a moment, trying to gather her thoughts. When she looked up, she looked directly at Dean. “Unfortunately, I do,” she said, “and he is not a person you want to mess with.”  
“Who is he?” Dean asked.   
Mac took a minute to answer, “He’s a very old, very powerful witch. His name is Matricos.” Sam looked at her with a worried look. She looked down at him, gave a small smile, and said, “Don’t worry. He’s powerful, but I can beat him. However, if he EVER gets his hands on that book… Well, you really don’t want to know.” She looked over at Charley and narrowed her eyes, “Where is the book now?” she asked.   
“In my bag,” Charley replied sheepishly. She grabbed her bag from the floor where it was sitting by the sofa, opened it and pulled out a big, old, creepy looking book. Sam and Mac looked at it. Mac noticed Dean’s hand reaching for the book. She looked at him, his eyes were glazed over, as if he was in a trance. Mac got up and grabbed it. She walked over to the table, held it in one hand, and did something with the other hand in front of her where the others couldn’t see. She turned back around, “It should be safe for now. I put it in a protection box with a powerful spell.” There was a box on the table with the lid open, the book was visible.  
It seemed to work. Dean blinked quickly and looked at Charley, then Sam. “What happened?” he asked, “I feel weird.”   
“You’re always weird,” replied Sam.   
“Sam!” chastised Mac, “Dean, what do you remember?”   
“As soon as Charley brought the book out, I felt something. It was like the book was calling to me. That book is bad, really bad,” said Dean. “I couldn’t see or feel anything except that book.”  
“I was afraid of that,” said Mac.   
“What?” asked Sam.   
Mac looked at him, then at Dean, and replied, “The Mark is affected by the book. It wants the bearer to use the book, but not for good. Remember what Cas said, a curse as old and evil as the Mark will have devastating effects. We can’t use that book. I don’t even want to think about what will happen to Dean, or the world for that matter, if the Mark is removed using the Book of the Damned.”  
While Mac was speaking, Dean had risen from the sofa and started walking slowly to the table. He stopped in front of the box that held the book. He started slightly swaying back and forth, staring down. He grabbed the book and held it close to his chest, slowly turning toward the door of the cabin. Mac looked over at Dean, “Crap!!!” she exclaimed in a low voice, “Sam, slowly, very slowly, go and block the door. Charley, slowly stand over there,” she pointed to an area in the middle of the room where there was no furniture. As Sam and Charley followed Mac’s directions, Mac slowly walked up to Dean from behind.   
Dean looked at Sam, his eyes glazed over, “Sam, move!” he demanded.   
“No. Dean put the book down,” said Sam in a quiet tone.   
“I don’t want to hurt you, Sam. MOVE!” Dean commanded. Sam shook his head.   
Mac came up behind Dean and put her hands around his arms, pinning them and the book to his side. He struggled, trying to break her hold on him. She laid her head against his back and started to whisper, “Leniret terrae, liniret ad maria, leniret animo, ponet illud in otium.” He growled and fought even harder to get away from her. She continued to whisper the spell over and over. He howled and continued to fight. She kept whispering the spell, not breaking her hold, until Dean’s body finally started to relax. He shook his head to clear it and looked down at her arms around him and the book clutched to his chest. He looked up at Sam standing in front of him.   
Sam smiled at him, “Welcome back,” Sam said.   
With that, Mac released her arms and let Dean go, grabbing the book out of his hands. “Better?” she asked him.   
He turned slightly so he could see her, Sam, and Charley. “What the hell happened? What was that?” he asked the three of them. Mac put the book behind her back so Dean couldn’t see it and slowly stepped backwards to the table and placed the book down, still blocking Dean’s sight of it.   
“You started going crazy when you looked at that stupid book,” answered Charley. Dean looked at her, then Sam, as if for confirmation.   
“Yeah, dude, you did,” said Sam, “If Mac hadn’t grabbed you, you would probably be out in the woods somewhere doing god knows what.”   
Dean looked back at Mac, “How did you stop me?” he asked her.   
She laughed, “I’m a lot stronger than you think I am,” she said.   
“I can see that,” remarked Dean.   
Sam walked over to Dean, grabbed his arm and guided him back to the sofa and told him to sit down. Dean sat, Sam beside him on one side. Charley walked over to the sofa and sat on the other side of Dean. Mac walked over to the armchair and sat down, leaning forward and putting her elbows on her knees. “How do you feel,” she asked Dean.   
Dean looked up at her, “Like I was hit by a truck,” he replied.   
“I bet,” she said back to him, “Now you know why I wanted you to stay away from that damn book,” she said with a sigh. “It called out to the Mark when Dean saw it. It wants to be used, and not in a good way,” she continued.   
“I could FEEL it calling to me,” noted Dean, “Man, it was powerful. I could hear myself but couldn’t stop. It was as if something else had taken over. You can’t ever let me near that damn thing again, Sam, we have to get rid of it. Burn it, chop it into little pieces, I don’t care. We just need to get rid of it.”   
Sam looked over at Mac, “Can we destroy it?” he asked her.   
“I’m not sure,” she replied, “I think burning it would be the only chance of destroying it.”   
Charley looked at her, “What do you mean you think?” she questioned.   
Mac replied, “I don’t know for sure, but fire is used for purification. Because the book is evil, the only way I can think of destroying it is to purify it. Hence, burning.” She paused, tilting her head toward the door. “Whatever we are going to do, we need to do it NOW!” she said, raising her voice with each word, yelling the last one.   
Sam looked at her face, then at the door. “Why?”   
“Matricos is here,” she said loudly as she jumped up from the chair. With that statement, the other three got up quickly from the sofa. Dean pulled out his gun, Charley grabbed her ‘hobbit’ sword, Mac moved over to the empty part of the room (where Charley was standing when Dean grabbed the book). Sam moved over to the table, grabbed the book, and moved over to the fireplace. He quickly reached down and grabbed the pitcher of holy oil and poured a little onto the fire. It flared up. Mac looked at him quickly, then turned her head back toward the door. “Purification – holy oil,” was all he said.   
Dean commented, “good idea,” not looking away from the door.  
All the windows in the cabin blew inwards, shards of glass flying everywhere. Dean and Charley ducked to avoid being hit. Mac stood tall, looking at the door. It flew open with a loud crash. Sam, Dean, Charley, and Mac all looked toward the door. A few seconds later, a man walked through. Dean charged at him. With a wave, the man threw him against the wall. Charley started running toward him, sword out in front. “No Charley!” yelled Mac as the man threw her hard against the cupboards, again with a wave.   
“I am MATRICOS!” the man bellowed as he looked over at Sam, “and you have something of mine. Be a good boy and hand it over. If you do, I just might show mercy and kill you quickly.”   
“Take one step further and into the fire it goes,” replied Sam.   
“Sam, burn it!” yelled Dean, “burn it now!”   
Matricos laughed, and not in a good way, and took several steps toward Sam.   
Mac stepped forward, “Hey, Matricos! Remember me?” she said loudly to get his attention. When Matricos turned toward Mac, she gave Sam a slight nod. He nodded back and bent down toward the fire.   
“YOU!” Matricos exclaimed, “I thought you were dead.”   
Mac laughed, “Yeah, not so much. I guess I’m really hard to kill.” With that, she started raising her arms, palms facing up her voice starting as a whisper, “Maga winga! Maga winga! Fiat ictu auferetur ab hoste, inde milia passuum mi, ut neus ego adepto revanche!” She yelled the last word and turned her palms and pushed them toward Matricos. He stumbled as a wave of air hit him hard. He responded with another spell that hit Mac in the back as she turned away from the blast. They continued throwing spells at each other, Matricos seeming to get weaker and weaker as each of Mac’s spells hit him.   
Finally, he fell to his knees and looked up at her. “You have grown stronger,” he snarled to her, “But you can’t beat me!” and he was gone.   
Mac bent forward, hands on her knees, breathing heavily. “Sam. Is the book gone?” she asked in a low voice.  
“Yeah,” he answered her. He was still standing by the fireplace with the closed protection box in his hands. He walked over to the where the table was on its side. He righted it and put the box on the table. Mac looked around the room. Every other piece of furniture seemed to be broken. The sofa cushions were torn, stuffing all over. The armchair was on its back, arms and legs broken off. Cupboard doors open with contents strewn all over. Charley was lying face down, unconscious. Dean was sitting on the floor against the wall Matricos had thrown him against. Mac waved her hand wearily. Everything started going back to normal. Stuffing for the sofa went back into the cushions, cushions repaired. The legs and arms of the armchair reattached and it righted itself. Contents of the cupboards went back to where they belonged. Sam and Dean were watching everything move around to their rightful places. They both had an incredulous look on their faces. “Wow,” said Sam.   
“Awesome,” said Dean.   
Charley groaned and lifted her head. “Wha…What happened? Holy crap!” she said as a couple of plates repaired themselves then flew to a cupboard. She got up from the floor and brushed her pants and shirt off. Dean rose from the floor and reached down and picked up his gun. Mac stood up and walked wearily to the armchair and plopped herself down, laying her head back and closing her eyes. Sam stepped forward from the fireplace and sat on the arm of the chair beside Mac. He reached behind her head and drew it toward him. She didn’t open her eyes. Dean and Charley walked over and sat on the sofa.   
“Well, that was fun,” said Dean sarcastically.   
Mac gave a grunt that sounded like a laugh. Sam looked down at her. “Are you ok?” he asked her.   
She still kept her eyes closed. “Just tired,” she responded, “I’ll be fine. I just need rest. That took a lot out of me.” She smiled, still keeping her eyes closed. There was silence in the room. Everyone else thinking about what had happened, Mac resting.   
CHAPTER 6  
Sam walked into the kitchen. Mac and Dean were sitting at the table. Dean looked up from the laptop open in front of him. “Hey,” he said as Sam walked past him.   
Sam moved up behind Mac, bent down and kissed the top of her head. She looked up, smiling, and raised her chin so Sam could give her a kiss, “Good Morning,” she whispered.   
He smiled, “Morning,” he replied. He stood, walked over to the coffee maker and poured a cup. He went back and sat beside Mac.   
Dean looked at the two of them, rolled his eyes and said, “Get a room you two. No! Wait… if you did that, I’d never see you!”   
Mac just smiled. Sam responded with, “Ha ha… funny. So, what’s up today?”  
Dean looked back down at the laptop screen, “Found something weird. In Richfield, Utah, bodies are turning up with pieces missing. One guy had his liver and spleen removed. One lady had both eyes missing. Others have had limbs removed. All had throats cut.”   
Sam looked at him, “Sounds to me like some sicko serial killer taking trophies.”   
“Yeah, it does. Your favorite. Wan’na go?” Dean asked him.   
Sam shook his head and replied, “No, you go ahead. Mac, why don’t you go with him?”   
Mac narrowed her eyes and looked at Sam, “What, trying to get rid of me? Why don’t you want to go?” she said.   
“I have some stuff I have to do,” Sam replied.   
Mac and Dean looked at each other, then back at Sam. “Sam,” started Mac, “you have been taking off on your own an awful lot lately, since we got back from the cabin. What’s up with you?”  
Sam looked at Mac then Dean, then back to Mac, “Nothing,” he said with a smile. “Nothing is up with me. I just need to have some alone time. Remember, I have been alone along time. I just need a little space every once in a while. Go with Dean. Stretch your legs. I’ll stay here. I just want to keep looking for something to remove the Mark.” He looked at her pleadingly, “Please?”   
“Fine,” she said with a sigh, “When do you want to leave?” she looked at Dean.   
“10? Meet me in the garage,” he responded. Mac nodded, got up and left the room.   
Dean stood up, “Sam, are you…”   
Sam interrupted, “I’m fine. Go. Go kill the monsters. I’ll be here.” Dean nodded and left the room.  
The first hour of the drive to Utah was quiet except for the music Dean was playing on the tape deck. Mac was staring out the window thinking about Sam and her relationship with to him. She was thinking about what the future might hold for them.  
Dean turned down the music and broke her out of her reverie. “Mac, can I ask you something?” he asked her.   
She looked over at him and shrugged her shoulder, “Sure. I’ll answer if I can.”   
“What is your connection to us?” he glanced at her quickly, then turned his eyes back to the road.   
Mac took a few minutes to respond. Dean thought maybe she wasn’t going to. Then she started to speak, “Dean, the connection I have is very hard to explain. I’m not sure even I understand it. All my long, long life I seemed to be drifting, going from one town to another, from one life to another. Even when I was married, I knew he wasn’t meant to be forever. When you were born, I felt drawn to you. It seemed the universe was finally coming together the way it was supposed to. I had somewhere to be. When Sam was born, the feeling got stronger. It was more than feeling drawn to him, it was like my spirit was finally awake. It was like a bright light guiding my way. When I closed my eyes and concentrated on the light, I could see you and Sam. You were harder to see, more fuzzy, indistinct. I could see you but couldn’t feel very much, only bits and pieces. I could feel everything with Sam. I knew when he was hurt, angry, sad, injured. I could feel the frustration at your father for his treatment of you both and John not wanting Sam to quit the life to go to school. I kept repeating ‘You need to go to school’ over and over and he went. That’s where I met him in person. We became friends. I introduced him to Jessica. He needed to fall in love with her. I knew it would end in tragedy. I didn’t want to see him hurt, but I couldn’t stop it, I had to let it happen. I had to leave. I can’t explain how or why I knew; I just did. It was a feeling. Everything that happened from the time you and Sam were born just felt right. Not good, but correct, like it needed to be. I saw him die. I knew about the deal you made to bring him back. I knew when Sam was drinking demon blood, when he killed Lilith and let Lucifer free. I watched him allow Lucifer in to stop the Apocalypse. I felt your happiness with Lisa and Ben. I wanted to reach out to Sam when he came back without a soul and help you get it back for him, but I had to let you interact with Death. I watched Sam struggle with the demon in you, I watched him cure you. It was after that I knew it was time to come back. So here I am.”  
Dean didn’t respond for a minute. He glanced over at her quickly, then watched the road again, “You didn’t really answer the question though. WHY?”   
She shook her head, “I don’t know. I just am.”   
Dean’s eyebrows scowled together, “You’re driving me crazy; you know that?” he said, “you can be very frustrating.”   
Mac gave a small laugh, “Now you know how I feel about the both of you when you do something stupid. Look, Dean, I don’t know WHY I am connected to you or Sam. I don’t know WHY I need to be near you, working with you. I don’t know WHY I need to be with him. It just is.” Dean shook his head and looked out the side window, then back at the road.   
Mac looked over at him. He looked so tired and haggard. “Would you like me to drive for a while so you can get some shut-eye?” she asked him.   
“No, that’s ok. We’ll stop at the next place for a few hours” he replied. About half hour later there was a sign for a roadside motel. Dean pulled in, “I’ll get us a couple of rooms.”   
“Dean just get one room, two beds. I think we can share, can’t we?” Mac noted. Dean came back to the car with a key in his hand and gave it to Mac. The keychain said No. 15. Dean drove down the motel to the stall in front of room 15 and backed the car in. Mac opened the room door as Dean grabbed their duffle bags from the trunk.  
The next day they arrived in Richfield. Dean dropped Mac off at the coroner’s then went to the Sheriff’s office. Mac walked in and showed the intern her FBI badge. She was taken to the autopsy room where the coroner was working on the latest victim. “Good afternoon. I am Special Agent Conner with the FBI. I would like to see all the victims with their throats ripped out and organs missing” she said to the doctor. The doctor looked up from the body on the table, “Morning,” she said, “What does the FBI want with these bodies? This is just some sicko taking trophies.” She had a very defensive tone in her voice, as if Mac was encroaching on her turf. “Relax, Doc. 1. – I go where they send me and 2. – we have found other bodies across state lines, which means this is Federal.”   
The doctor seemed to relax, “OMG! Really! Crap. I thought I was the only one who had to look at this mess.” She narrowed her eyes, “You’re going to catch this creep, right? I really hope you cut his balls off and shove them down his throat.”   
Mac gave a small laugh, “You and me both, Doc. Unfortunately, we’re not allowed to do that anymore, sadly. So, what do you have?”  
Mac was waiting outside when Dean pulled into the parking lot. After she got into the car and they started driving, she looked over at Dean. “What did you find out from the Sheriff?” she asked him. “Not much. They have no idea who, or what could be doing this. The crime scene photos were nasty. Blood was all over the ground, bodies ripped open, organs missing. Pretty gruesome. What about you?”   
“Doc Sheridan is cool. She chatted the entire time about how quiet this town is most of the time and how this crime has really shaken everyone up. Even though there was some blood found at the scene, the bodies were all drained. Not a drop of blood left in them. And the varying organs missing was almost like someone was putting together another body. I’m thinking this might be a vamp., but the organs don’t make sense.”   
“Yeah, that’s what I was thinking, too” replied Dean, “But what if it’s a vamp trying to put together another vamp?”   
“Huh? You think a vampire might be MAKING another one rather than just turning one? I don’t know,” Mac said with an incredulous note in her voice. Dean shrugged his shoulders but didn’t reply.  
They decided to talk to the family of the last victim, a 24-year-old female named Christy Holmes. Mrs. Holmes told them she didn’t know who her daughter was hanging out with but did say that she was dating a new guy named Malcom. She didn’t know where Malcom lived or where he worked, but knew he lived on Ashter Avenue in a walk-up apartment. Mac and Dean went to Malcom’s apartment and knocked on the door. There was no answer. Dean pulled out his lock-pick and opened the door. The apartment was clean, tidy. No evidence of anything untoward. Dean went into the bedroom to look around. Mac was looking through the papers on the desk and in the drawers. She noticed something didn’t feel right with the 3rd drawer down. It seemed to be shallower than what the outside would suggest. She pushed the papers out of the way and knocked gently on the bottom. It sounded hollow. She pulled the drawer out and dumped the contents on the floor. She saw a tiny hole on the back-right corner, put her finger in and pulled up. In the false bottom, she found a deed to a warehouse on the other side of town. “Hey Dean. Look at this,” she called out.   
“What did you find?” he responded as he walked into the living room.   
Mac was reading the contents of the deed. “Malcom has a warehouse on Sumpter street on the other side of town. Maybe we should check it out?” she asked. She put the false bottom back in the drawer, replaced all the contents and put the drawer back in the desk. They headed over to the warehouse. Mac was researching while Dean drove. “It says this particular property was originally set up as a medical lab years ago but abandoned. It was purchased by Malcom Kreeder about a month ago.”   
“That’s shortly before the killings started,” commented Dean.   
“Yeah. There’s no information on what Malcom was doing with it. All the properties around the area are abandoned so no one sees what happens inside,” Mac replied.  
They pulled up to the warehouse. The area was quiet. There didn’t seem to be anyone around. Mac looked in the window beside the door as Dean unlocked the door with his lock-pick. “Dean,” Mac whispered, “There’s someone inside.” They were very quiet as they entered the building. They saw plastic sheets hanging from the ceiling, surrounding a large area that seemed to contain medical equipment and two metal tables. Each table had a body on it. The body on the right had tubes coming out of an arm. The bags attached to the tubes had a dark liquid in them. The body on the left also had tubes with bags of dark liquid.  
There were large crates outside the plastic walls. Mac and Dean each hid behind a crate as someone came from the back of the building. The man walked through the plastic and moved to between the two tables. He started talking, but it was too low to hear what he was saying. Dean looked at Mac and motioned she go around to the left. He indicated he would go around the right. They silently moved in unison, each drawing their machetes out. As they approached the plastic walls, Malcom turned. He hissed, vampire fangs descending in his mouth. The body on the left table moved and started to sit up. It was hideous. Different body parts stitched together. It had female attributes but was missing the right arm. It opened its eyes, looked over at Mac, and hissed. It too had fangs in its mouth. It jumped off the table and went for Mac. Malcom attacked Dean. The tables were turned over, the other body dumped on the floor. Medical monitors were knocked over and broken, some of the plastic walls were torn down. After several minutes of fighting, Mac was finally able to get enough leverage to swing her machete and cut the head off the abomination. Malcom turned toward Mac and cried in anguish. This gave Dean the opportunity to swing and remove Malcom’s head. The other body on the floor groaned. Mac rushed over. It was another young lady. Mac put her hand over the girl’s chest. “Dean! She’s alive but she’s lost a lot of blood,” she called.   
Dean walked over to them, wiping the blood off his machete. “Anything you can do?” he asked her.  
Mac looked up at him, “I’ll try” was all she said. Suddenly, she felt excruciating pain on her forearm. She looked down. The girl had clamped down on Mac’s arm and was trying to rip it off. She had red eyes and vampire fangs. Mac screamed.   
“Down!” Dean yelled. As Mac ducked her head, Dean swung his machete and cut the girl’s head off. Unfortunately, the fangs were still attached to Mac’s arm, head hanging off. Dean reached down and pried the mouth open to remove it. Her arm was bleeding profusely. Dean took a handkerchief from his jacket and wrapped it around the wound. It bled through the cloth very quickly and blood started dripping down her arm. “What the hell?” Dean exclaimed. Everything started going fuzzy for Mac. She couldn’t focus. She tried to look at Dean. He was speaking, but she couldn’t understand what he was saying. Then everything went black.  
She slowly opened her eyes and blinked several times, everything was fuzzy. Slowly, the room came into focus. She looked around, not sure where she was. She saw Sam and Dean several feet away from the end of the bed she was in. She looked around again, she realized she was in the bunker’s infirmary. She tried to sit up but couldn’t raise her head. Sam must have sensed she was awake because he turned from Dean and walked to the side of the bed. She opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came out. “Hey. Welcome back,” Sam said quietly with a smile, “You gave us quite a scare.”   
Dean walked over to the other side of the bed and looked down at her. “How are you feeling?” he asked.   
She opened her mouth to speak again. But, again, nothing came out. She shook her head and touched her throat. Her head started to pound so she closed her eyes.  
“Shh, don’t try to talk,” Sam whispered, “Dean will get you something, it might help.” A few seconds later she felt a straw against her lips. She wrapped her lips around it and slowly took a drink. It was horrible, but her head immediately stopped pounding and her throat felt better.   
She opened her eyes and looked at Sam, then at Dean. “What happened?” she croaked, “How long have I been here?”   
Dean looked over at Sam, then back at Mac. “You’ve been here about 2 weeks,” he replied, “What do you remember?”   
She shook her head, “I don’t know.”   
“Dean let her be. Mac, relax, go back to sleep. We’ll talk when you wake up. Come on Dean. Let’s go,” Sam spoke quietly. He turned to leave.   
Mac grabbed his arm and turned him back to her. She shook her head and tugged his arm down. “Don’t go,” she mouthed. Her throat hurt again, and her head was sore. Sam looked over at Dean.   
“I’ll go make something to eat,” said Dean and turned, went up the stairs, and left the room.   
Sam looked down at Mac. She looked wearily up at him and patted the bed beside her, indicating he lay down next to her. She moved over slightly, and Sam laid down. She raised her head high enough so he could put his arm under it. She turned onto her side facing Sam and relaxed in his arms. She fell asleep instantly. When she next awoke, the light in the room had been dimmed. Sam was still beside her, eyes closed. She wasn’t sure if he was sleeping. She looked around. Everything was quiet. She closed her eyes and fell back asleep.  
Sometime later, she opened her eyes again. Sam was looking at her, smiling. “Hey,” was all he said.   
“Hey,” she replied softly, her voice rough.   
“How are you feeling?” he asked her.   
“My throat still hurts, but not as bad as it did. What the hell happened?” she responded.   
“I don’t know,” he answered, “Dean came rushing in here, carrying you. You were unconscious and unresponsive. He didn’t know what happened other than the victim you were trying to save bit you. We had to call someone in because we didn’t know what was going on.”   
She narrowed her eyes, “Who did you call?” Sam didn’t respond right away. “Sam… who did you call?” she asked again. He mumbled something that Mac couldn’t hear. “Who? I can’t hear you.”   
“Rowena,” he answered a little louder.   
“Rowena? Rowena McLeod? WHAT!!!” Mac tried to yell, but what came out was a croak, “Why would you call that…” she left the sentence unfinished.   
“Mac, we didn’t know what was happening or how to help you. Rowena was the only person we could think of that might have some kind of knowledge of what was happening with you. Please don’t be mad,” Sam pleaded.   
“I’m not mad,” Mac croaked. Her throat still felt raw. “She probably is the only one who could help. Did she know what happened? Why the vamp bite knocked me?” she asked.   
“No,” replied Sam, “but she put together some sort of concoction, said a spell and told us to give it to you every couple of hours. That was hard to do while you were out, by the way. But whatever she put together worked. You came out of it, whatever it was.” Mac tried to sit up, but when she moved, her head started to pound again. “Whoa,” said Sam, “Take it easy. Let me help you.” He got off the bed and turned to help her up. She closed her eyes trying to stop the room from spinning and her head hurting. After sitting for a few minutes, breathing slowly in and out, she turned and put her legs off the side of the bed. Sam sat down beside her again, keeping her steady. After a few more minutes, he rose from the bed again and grabbed her hands. She kept her eyes closed to keep the nausea in check. With Sam’s help, she stood slowly. Finally, she opened her eyes again and looked up at him. “Ok?” he asked her.   
“Yeah,” she said shakily. Her legs felt wobbly, but the room stopped spinning and she didn’t feel ill. Sam put his arm around her waist and helped her up the stairs and out of the room. They walked very slowly to the library. Sam helped her sit at one of the tables. Dean, Castiel and Rowena were sitting a few tables over and looked at her as Sam helped her.   
“How are you feeling?” Dean asked her.   
“I’m ok,” she replied, her voice still had a croak. She looked over at Rowena. “I hear I have you to thank,” she said.   
“Ach, t’was nothing,” replied Rowena, “Just a few herbs, some words and boom, there you have it.”   
Mac stared at her intently, “Why?” she inquired.   
“Why what?” responded Rowena.   
“Why did you help me? We’re not friends. In fact, we have tried to kill each other on several occasions. Why would you help me?” questioned Mac.   
“Well,” responded Rowena after a few seconds, “You are correct, Maxine. We are not friends. We have tried to kill each other. Many times. However, I owe Dean and Samuel. I didn’t do it for you, I did it for them.” She looked at Dean, then pointedly at Sam, and rose from the table, “With that, I will take my leave. Goodbye boys.” She walked to the bottom of the stairs. Sam rose from the table and quickly went after Rowena, “Hold up,” he called. When he caught up to her before she started up the stairs, they spoke very quietly.   
Dean, Mac, and Cas couldn’t hear what was being said. Rowena ascended the stairs, Sam returned to the table and sat beside Mac. Dean looked over at him quizzically, “What was that all about?”   
“Nothing. Just said thank you,” replied Sam.   
“Huh,” responded Dean, nodding his head, unconvinced. Cas rose from the table and walked over to Mac. He put his hand over her head and closed his eyes. Mac felt warmth flowing down her body, starting at her head all the way down to her toes. It helped clear her mind, things weren’t so fuzzy anymore.   
“Thanks, Castiel,” Mac said quietly. “Do we know what that vamp had?”  
“No,” said Dean. “I looked at one that was clamped on your arm. It had a pocket with venom in it. It would have killed us, but obviously can’t kill witches.”  
“Yeah, well. It almost killed her. If we hadn’t called Rowena, well, I don’t want to think about what would have happened,” commented Sam.  
Mac smiled at him, “You can’t get rid of me that easily. So, what’s up for today?”  
“Rest for you,” said Sam, “If anything comes up, we’ll handle it.”  
“I’ve had 2 weeks of rest. I don’t want to rest anymore. I need to get some air. Sam, can we go for a drive or something?” Mac asked.  
Sam looked at Mac, then at Dean, “Can we take the car for a bit?”  
“Sure, I guess. Just take care of her. She’s delicate,” replied Dean.  
Mac gave him a sideways glance, “I’m not that delicate.”  
Dean looked pointedly at Sam. “He’s not talking about you, Mac, he’s talking about the car,” said Sam with a laugh. “I’ll take special care of her,” he said to Dean.   
CHAPTER 7  
Sam and Mac were driving along a quiet road. No one else was out. Mac looked out the open window. She loved the feel of the wind on her face. The car was quiet. Sam had asked if she wanted music, she didn’t. He asked questions, she gave one-word answers. Finally, he remained quiet. They drove in silence for a while.   
Mac finally looked over at Sam. “Sam, can I ask you something?” she asked him.  
“Anything, honey,” he replied, glancing quickly at her, then back at the road. He reached over and grabbed her hand. She curled her fingers around his and slid over so she was sitting close beside him.  
“What are you doing?” she asked looking at him.  
“What do you mean?”  
“I mean, you take off a lot on your own. You won’t say where you are going or what you’re doing. You’re being very secretive and it’s making me nervous,” she commented.  
Sam was quiet for a few minutes. At first Mac thought he wasn’t going to answer her, then he started to speak quietly, “I’ve been working with Charley and Rowena to decode the Book of the Damned. They have narrowed down the spell needed to remove the Mark from Dean’s arm. Now they are working at decoding it using a ‘codex’ that Rowena found. Cas is also helping me keep an eye on them.” He looked at Mac’s hand intertwined with his, then up at her face, “I have to do something to help Dean. I can’t let him be destroyed by this. I won’t lose my brother. I can’t lose my brother.” His voice ended on a pleading note.  
Mac sighed and looked out the window again, still holding Sam’s hand, sitting right next to him. After a few seconds she looked back at him, “I get it, Sam. I know you need Dean. You need him more than you need anything. But, that book!? To break the curse of the Mark, you will unleash something worse than this world has ever seen. If you think the Apocalypse was bad, this will be much, much worse.”  
“What do you know about the Mark, Mac?” he inquired, “Mac?”  
“As I said before, not much. But if God gave it to Lucifer who passed it on to Caine, there must have been a good reason for it. Who are you, we, to mess with that?” she replied after a few seconds. Right then, Sam’s cell rang. He pulled it out of his pocket and hit the speaker. “Yeah,” he said into it.   
Rowena’s and Charley’s voices came over the speaker, very excited:  
Charley: “Sam, I have it”  
Rowena: “WE have it”  
Charley: “We have it. We found and decoded the spell we need. It’s really simple. All we need is a few ingredients, some words, and voila, the Mark is gone.”  
“I’ll be right there,” he said into the speaker. Sam glanced at Mac with a smile, “Do you want to go back or come with me?”  
Mac had a worried look on her face when she looked at him. “I’ll come with you,” she replied. They drove to an abandoned church.  
Charley and Rowena met them at the door. They excitedly told Sam the ingredients they needed, most of which happened to be at the bunker. There was only one thing they needed that they didn’t have – the blood of something Rowena, as the spellcaster, loved. She told them this was impossible because she didn’t love anything or anyone. The three of them, Mac stayed quiet and didn’t provide any input, decided to get the other ingredients then they would figure out what to do about the last one. Sam and Mac returned to the bunker, which was empty.  
Sam gathered all the items they needed, and he and Mac went back to the church. Cas was there when they got back. He indicated he did not know where Dean went when Sam asked him. They were discussing the spell and the final ingredient. No one had any suggestions about what Rowena loved. She was adamant that there wasn’t anything, not even Crowley. Suddenly, Crowley appeared in the doorway. “Don’t mistake her wanting to kill me for love,” he said by way of introduction, “But I did find something Rowena loves.” He waved his hand behind him, indicating someone behind him should come out.  
Rowena looked incredulous. “Oscar?” she whispered. She looked at Crowley, who had a nasty grin on his face. “How could you? You are a vile, rotten, dirty…” she left the last sentence unfinished.  
Crowley walked down the steps into the room. Oscar followed. Crowley continued to look at Rowen with that nasty grin, “Yes, well. You are a horrible mother. Now, shall we continue?”  
Oscar slowly walked up to Rowena and gave her a hug. The others in the room were quiet, not really sure what was happening. All the other ingredients were in the bowl on the table, ready for the final one. While Rowena was returning Oscar’s hug, she cried and stabbed him in the neck. Blood poured out into the bowl. With tears streaming down her face, Rowena dropped Oscar’s body, picked up the Book, and started to recite the words required to finish the spell. Sam’s cell rang again. He answered, listened to someone on the other end for a few seconds, then hung up. “I have to go.” When Rowena, Charley, Crowley, Mac, and Cas looked at him incredulously, he said, “Rowena, finish it. I’ll be back.” With that, he turned and left. Rowena finished the spell.  
Suddenly, there was a bright light and a blast that threw everyone across the room. They watched a white beam shoot through the ceiling. The sky outside turned black. Thunder rolled violently. Lightning flashed intensely.   
Crowley, Rowena, and Cas disappeared. Charley and Mac looked at each other, not sure what to do. Charley asked, “Can you find Sam and Dean?”  
“I think so,” replied Mac. She closed her eyes. In her mind’s eye, she was searching for Sam. She was sure he was with Dean. After searching for a few minutes, she finally found them. She looked through Sam’s eyes, saw what he saw, but couldn’t hear what they were saying. Dean was talking with Sam. It seemed Sam was on his knees. He was looking up at Dean. Mac felt anguish. She saw Death standing behind Dean, holding his scythe out to Dean. She saw Dean grab the scythe, then everything went black as Sam closed his eyes. When Sam opened them again, Dean was facing Death, the scythe sticking out of Death’s side. Death started turning to rock, then crumbled. Sam rose. Dean looked over at him, a very surprised look on his face. Again, the sky turned black and lightning flashed, just as it did when Rowena cast the spell (Mac couldn’t hear the thunder, but assumed it was there too). There was a bright flash and a white beam (possibly the same one from the church?) hit the Mark on Dean’s arm. It flashed a bright red, then disappeared. Dean looked down at his arm, then up at Sam. He smiled. Dean moved closer to Sam and gave him a bear-hug.  
Mac opened her eyes. Tears were streaming down her face. She faced Charley and smiled. “It worked! The Mark is gone!” she cried.   
“Oh, thank god!” exclaimed Charley. The two girls hugged each other. Mac snapped her fingers, and they were returned to the bunker. They waited for the boys to come back.  
Several hours later Dean and Sam returned to the bunker, joking and laughing as they all but ran down the stairs. Charley and Mac met them in the war room. Charley went up to Sam and wrapped her arms around his waist then let him go. She stepped over to Dean and wrapped her arms around him, “I’m so glad you’re ok!” she exclaimed. Dean laughed and hugged her back, “Me too,” was all he said.   
Mac took a few tentative steps to Sam. She looked up into his smiling eyes and grinned, “Welcome back,” she said as she stepped into his open arms. She laid her head on his chest, he rested his chin on the top of her head. He lifted his head off hers, she raised her head from his chest and looked up at him. He bent his head slightly as she lifted her chin. Their lips met with ferocity. Dean cleared his throat. Sam and Mac broke apart and laughed.   
“Let’s celebrate!! Who wants a drink? Dean asked the three of them.  
“Always,” replied Charley.  
Mac looked at Sam then back to Dean, Sam looked down at Mac, then over at Dean. There was an unspoken conversation going on between Mac and Sam. They seemed to come to an agreement. “I think we will celebrate another way,” Sam said to Dean. All Mac said was, “Shall we?” They walked hand in hand out of the war room.

**Author's Note:**

> This is a fanfic story based on the later part of Season 10 of the TV show Supernatural on the CW.


End file.
